


Our Vices

by kaibasetos



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-07
Updated: 2015-11-07
Packaged: 2018-04-30 10:48:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5160962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaibasetos/pseuds/kaibasetos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I couldn't stay away from you even if I wanted to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Our Vices

**Author's Note:**

> I honestly don't know where this came from. All I know is that I sat down to write something new for my NaNoWriMo collection and then this happened and I like it. So here you go! Enjoy!

Jounouchi exhales, letting silky smoke pour from his mouth and out of the open window of his truck. He observes passively as it entangles itself in the embrace of the wind and glides away, disappearing into the distant darkness of the night. The next drag is harsher but sweeter, filling his lungs with poison sugar, and this time when he exhales he slows his breathing so the vapor tumbles through his lips in a delicate wisp of a harmony.

“That’s a terrible fixation,” Kaiba contributes from his passenger seat.

“Yeah, you’ve told me that about a hundred times,” Jounouchi brushes him off indifferently, the last of the smoke slipping out with his words. He turns his head to look at Kaiba, poised in rich boy posture with one hand idly tracing the interior of the car door. Kaiba has a depthless gaze focused on him. “Some people’d probably say bein’ with you is a terrible fixation.” Jounouchi pauses for effect, and though Kaiba’s expression doesn’t change, his nails scrape against the door. The ever-present tension between them swells, a static lightning hum in the background. “But they’d be assholes. Just like you’re bein’ right now, coincidentally.”

He smiles crookedly at the glare he receives from Kaiba and takes another drag off of his cigarette, heavy and thick, as though in rebellion. The night sky glimmers and sparks in starbursts through the windshield, and the warm air drifting into their space is stifling. Jounouchi looks out the window and watches the empty, lethargic movement of the park his truck is sitting in, trees and swings stirred only by the breeze.

“They’d be right about one thing though,” Jounouchi continues absentmindedly. “It  _is_  a fixation.”

“Is it?” Kaiba asks, and his tone is deadpan and rigid.

Jounouchi laughs, a bit hoarse. “C’mon, Kaiba, don’t play dumb. You’ve been starin’ at me the whole time we’ve been sittin’ here and you always do. I know you feel the same way.”

“I’m not  _playing dumb_  about anything,” Kaiba deflects, and Jounouchi rolls his eyes. Kaiba is nothing if not an expert at avoiding his point, especially when he’s right about something. “I’m just questioning whether or not a relationship could be classified as a  _fixation_.”

“‘Course it could,” Jounouchi says, and he turns to snuff out his cigarette in his cup holder’s ashtray, leaving it there. He leans towards Kaiba and Kaiba stiffens but doesn’t pull away, his eyes expressing a willingness to rise up to the challenge Jounouchi presents. Jounouchi can see his breathing subtly quicken when he reaches over and rests his hand on Kaiba’s knee. “See? Just touched you once, but I bet you want me to keep touchin’ you.”

“That doesn’t prove anything,” Kaiba counters. “I’m fairly certain that’s the typical human response to being touched by someone you’re romantically involved with.”

“Did you break out your thesaurus to prepare for this argument or somethin’?” Jounouchi asks him with a shit-eating grin that only widens when Kaiba scoffs in indignation. “Nah, but see, do you want me to keep touchin’ you, or do you  _want_ me to keep touchin’ you?”

“What does that even mean?” Kaiba asks tersely. He’s getting more and more caught up in his own facade, his own defense mechanisms, and the deeper he buries himself under them the more Jounouchi wants to rip them up and apart, stain himself with the blood of them.

“It means,” Jounouchi insists, shifting towards the passenger seat, his hand running up to Kaiba’s inner thigh. Kaiba’s fingers curl against the door and Jounouchi knows he’s trying his best not to touch him in kind, because the moment he does he’ll lose control of himself. “Do you just want me to keep touchin’ you, or is the thought of me touchin’ you all you can even think about right now? Does it just feel like want or does it feel like wantin’ somethin’ so bad it could fuckin’ kill you?”

Kaiba’s jaw clenches. Something in his gaze changes from resolute to predatory. “You’ve made your point.”

“Nah, not yet.” Jounouchi smirks when he leans in just a bit further, so close that he can feel Kaiba’s breath against him. He squeezes Kaiba’s thigh. Kaiba is all desperate self-restraint, fighting so hard to keep his composure from shattering that Jounouchi can almost feel the struggle, like a tangible, writhing, edged thing occupying the gap between them. He’s trying, trying, trying. “Bet you wanna kiss me right now. Even though I taste like cigarettes and I know you fuckin’ hate that, bet you still wanna kiss me.”

Kaiba is dead silent. His eyes flick to Jounouchi’s mouth for the briefest instant, almost imperceptible but only almost. Jounouchi raises his eyebrows.

“Am I right?”

Kaiba inhales slowly.

“I always want to kiss you,” he says, every word low and careful and sharp as a dagger. It feels more like a weapon than an admission, something dangerous and painfully attractive, but that’s exactly what Jounouchi was looking for.

“Feeling’s mutual,” Jounouchi murmurs huskily, and he raises his hand to thread his fingers into Kaiba’s hair. “Every goddamn minute I’m with you. Sometimes when I'm not, too. That’s why you’re a fuckin’ _fixation_ , Kaiba. I couldn’t stay away from you even if I wanted to.”

Kaiba makes a sound like a faint, rumbling growl. His entire presence is fervor and destruction and hunger clawing at the seams of his body, so much more massive and monumental than he can contain.

“ _Now_  I’ve made my point,” Jounouchi whispers, and as though the words give it permission, Kaiba’s will to hold himself back fractures into small and inconsequential pieces. His hands are lethal where he grabs Jounouchi’s shirt and yanks him in to kiss him, his mouth a hellstorm of fire and a midnight flood of longing. He kisses like he’s trying to devour, like he’s trying to ruin, like he can’t be expected to bear another minute where his mouth isn’t colliding with Jounouchi’s so forcefully that every breath he draws feels as though it belongs to both of them at once. The feeling really is mutual.

This is more than attraction, this is more than passion, this is more than love. This is addiction. This is obsession. This is fixation.

Jounouchi savors every minute of it.


End file.
